Comments on the race of life.

Cat sitting

I regularly cat-sit for a neighbour. Mr Furlong and I like cats. But we prefer dogs. You always know where you are with a dog. My neighbour’s cat just unfriended me today and I her.

Neighbour’s cat is a rescue cat. In fact, it has been so unfriendly to kindly people who tried to give it a home, it has been returned to Rescue several times over. But now it has a home with neighbour and I’m the one who feeds her, cleans the cat tray and attempts to “love” her when her mistress is away.

I have learned never to touch her with an open hand. I have to make a fist and hold it out at kitty level, and she will come and rub herself ecstatically against it. If you open your hand, you’ve had it. The kitty morphs into a snarling hissing maniac.

Today, I did nothing other than offer my fist for loving attention, and I got attacked.

Tough shit kitty – you can sit on the stairs and purr as loud as you like, I’m not going near you again.